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Disclaimer: I'M BBBBBBBBBBBBBBAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCKKKKK!!  Did y'all miss me???  (*looks around at all the blank faces and questioning eyes* You were GONE?!  Who are you again??)  *pouts* Well, anyway, Midnight's Jewel finally decided to come home, so I've started writing again!  YAY!   As always, the characters that you recognize from IaHB—guess what, they ain't mine!  However, the characters that you don't recognize—THEY ARE!  I own stuff!  Yahoo!!  Anyhoo, this is the sequel to Shattered Harmonies and final part of the Broken Symphonies Trilogy.  The last story to come out, and the first part of the series, Disjointed Melodies, will, hopefully, be out sometime before, like, October.  (Give me time, I'm adjusting to college life now.  Egads!) Anyway, without further ado….

Broken Chords

Janie Waite swallowed hard, shifting the bouquet of white roses in her right hand to her left hand.  The cold, wet paper wrapped around the stems was suppose to keep the flowers looking fresh, but for some reason, the crisp white petals of the flowers looked faded and brown to her.  Looking away from the flowers, she surveyed the garden of stones that surrounded her. 

Almost ten years....it had been almost ten years since the last time she was here.  Her father had been laid to rest among these stones, that day, and she had never had the guts to come back to this place, so full of death and horrible, horrible memories.  Swallowing against the bile that rose in the back of her throat, she took a deep breath and began to make her way down the paved path that would take her to her father's grave.

The sun pounded down on her like a jack knife, and she quickened her pace, her footsteps echoing like gunshots in the silent field.  By the time she reached the large oak tree her father had been buried under, her heart was pounding so hard in her chest she thought it was going to explode.  She reached up to wipe the sweat off her brow, her hand quivering like a tightly strung bow. 

Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, Janie steeled herself, swallowing against the bile that once more rose in her throat.  Opening  her dark brown eyes, eyes that she had inherited from her father, the young woman stood looking at the simple headstone that marked her father's final resting place.   

So enraptured by the words burned into the stone, the young woman didn't notice that she had company until a second shadow fell across her father's grave. Tearing her eyes away from the words written in the stone, Janie looked over at her guest, and the ghost of a smile turned the corner of her lips up.  She should have known that she would be here.

"Aunt Caitie."  Janie said by way of greeting, turning to the smaller woman and wrapping her arms around her in a tight hug. 

"Hey, bright eyes."  The older woman whispered back into Janie's shoulder rubbing the girl's back.  Caitie had been her father's best friend since they had been very young--Janie had even been named after her, Jane Caitlin Waite. 

Even after her father's death, Caitie Roth had played an important part in Janie's life.  Unlike her workaholic mother, Caitie had always had time for the girl, telling her stories, teaching her to ride a bike, patching up skinned knees and elbows.  The older woman had even been the one to take Janie to buy her first bra and explained the other not as joyful aspect of being a woman. 

It hadn't ever struck Janie as odd until she was almost fourteen.  She finally worked up the nerve to ask Caitie why she always treated her more like her daughter then her best friend's daughter.  Caitie had just looked away, before forcing a slightly wavering smile and  abruptly changing the subject.  Janie had yet gotten up the nerve to ask again.

The two women stood in front of Jamie Waite's grave for a long second after greeting one another, just allowing the silence of the field of stone to sink in around them.  After a moment, Janie realized that she was holding tightly to Caitie's hand, and she let her lips turn up slightly, looking over at the other woman. 

"How'd you know that I was here?"  Janie asked softly,   her eye's dancing back to her father's gaze for an instant, before refocusing on Caitie. 

"Just a feeling."  Caitie allowed, the hint of a smile dancing in her eyes. 

"I'm glad you're here."  Janie admitted, truthfully.  "I...I'm not sure I could have done this on my own." 

"Why didn't you bring your mother with you?" 

Janie was quiet for a moment, trying to come up with an answer for her godmother's question. "I guess...I guess I just needed someone that was in the same boat as I was." 

"Some one that hadn't quite come to grips with his...leaving...either?"  Caitie couldn't bring herself to say  "his death". 

"Yeah."  Janie whispered, stepping closer to the woman she had known all her life. 

"I understand."  Caitie whispered, unwinding her fingers from Janie's tight grip and holding her arm open to her.  With the ease of long practice, Janie slipped under the woman's offered arm, basking in the glow of maternal love and peace she always found whenever Caitie was near. 

For another long moment, neither woman spoke, just taking comfort in the knowledge that they were no longer alone. 

"Caitie?"  Janie finally asked, peering up at her godmother.  "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."  Caitie whispered, stroking the girl's black hair with a small hand. 

"Why...why haven't you...ya know...let him go yet?"  Janie couldn't believe that she had been bold enough to ask that.  "I mean...even Mom..." 

Caitie didn't say anything for the longest time, and Janie thought she was going to pull another rapid change on her.  However, Caitie surprised her by sighing in defeat, and gesturing toward the stone bench that sat a few feet away. 

"Let's sit down, honey." 

When the two women were seated, Caitie took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, before beginning.

"Your father and I were best friends, you know that.  But what...what you didn't know, and what I've never told you is...well..."  The older woman sighed again and visibly steeled herself before pressing on.  "I loved your father." 

"I know that."  Janie told her, slightly confused.  "You just said that you were best friends." 

"No, bright eyes."  Caitie shook her head, a tear making it's way down her cheek.  "I mean, I loved your father--he was...and he always will be...the love of my life."  She was silent for a minute, giving Janie time to adjust to this startling news. 

Janie reeled.  Her father's best friend was in love with him?  She had always known that they were good friends, that they cared about each other, but she had never realized the extent of Caitie's feelings for her father. 

"You...you were in love with him?"  Was all Janie could think to say. 

"I am in love with him."  Was the whispered reply.

"Oh...I..."  Janie was silent for a minute, trying to pull her swirling thoughts into order.  "So...um...is that why...you know...you sorta stayed around  after he died?  Out of respect for my dad? Cause, you know, I don't think you and Mom are on the best terms."

"Your mother and I have never really seen eye to eye on anything."  Caitie quipped lightly, a smile flashing in her serious hazel eyes.  But then she was once again somber, reaching up to lightly stroke Janie's cheek in the motherly way that had always convinced Janie's friend's that Caitie was the girl's real mother.  "But respect for your father is only part of the reason I stayed around." 

"Then...why?" 

Caitie shut her eyes, as a tear slowly made it's way down her cheek and clung to her chin before falling like the first drop of rain before a thunderstorm.  "Because...in another world...you would have been mine."